


Scenes from a happy ending

by Tali (aworldinside)



Category: Ladyhawke (1985)
Genre: F/M, Yuletide 2007
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-11 19:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aworldinside/pseuds/Tali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Navarre watches Isabeau sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenes from a happy ending

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rusalka (marinarusalka)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marinarusalka/gifts).



Navarre watches her sleep. Her chest softly rising and falling.

He never tires of her being just there, within his reach. Never tires of being able to run his fingers down her arm as she lies on her side, face turned towards him. He still touches her gently, not quite able to believe that she is in front of him, under his fingers and inches from his face. Her mouth a little bit open, and lips curled ever slightly upwards.

His wife. Isabeau.

\--

Navarre remembered when he first saw her.

His Lord had announced briefly in passing that he was expecting a cousin from afar and that she would be staying with them for a while. Navarre had taken this news without comment as they had visitors all the timeÂ and had gone to supervise the training of the new guards, not knowing that this guest would change everything.

He had missed her arrival because he was breaking up a fight that had broken out in the barracks but the men that night had praised her beauty. Navarre had been sure they were exaggerating.

A couple of days later, coming back to the castle after his morning ride, he had heard a woman's rich laughter.

She was standing with his Lord's wife, who beckoned to him as he led Goliath back towards the stables. "Navarre! Come here. You have not yet met Isabeau, my Lord's cousin."

Isabeau barely came up to his Lady's shoulder and was wrapped in a large gray cloak, obviously having not gotten used to the cooler climate. Her face was framed by its folds.

He bowed. "My Lady."

"Captain."

Navarre prided himself on not being easily swayed by the pretty faces of the castle's serving women and the ladys in waiting but that morning he couldn't tear his eyes away from Isabeau's face.

They talked politely for a few minutes, before Navarre excused himself claiming duties that couldn't wait.

He saw blue eyes everywhere he went that day.

\--

Isabaeu stirs briefly in her sleep. Moving closer to Navarre and snuggling closer to his chest, tangling her hands in the shirt he wore to bed.

Navarre softly strokes her hand.

\--

A week later, he had come into the courtyard ready to ride out to a nearby village, to see the groom who usually tended to his horse staring at something nearby.

"She just walked right over to him, my Lord," he said as Navarre came closer.

He looked to his left and saw Goliath, his head bowed, having his ears scratched by Isabeau.

Goliath never let anyone near his ears except Navarre and occasionally, if he was feeling generous, the groom. Navarre had had to pick the groom out especially for his skill with horses because of Goliath's moods, but here he was looking like a young frisky foal not a bad tempered horse that had been in battle.

She was whispering to him, and was softly stroking his nose, her other hand in his mane.

Navarre had walked over, trying not to think about her fingers and how it would feel to be under her soft gaze. He was not jealous of his horse.

"You're beautiful," she whispered.

"He doesn't usually let people do that," Navarre had said, his voice coming out more softly that he had intended.

"I suppose he must like me." Isabeau had looked up with a smile, showing no sign of being surprised he was there.

Navarre had not know what to say to that.

She had looked more closely at him, seeing that he was dressed in full riding gear and a cloak. "Oh. I'm sorry, you must be on your way somewhere."

"To a nearby village."

"I'll let you go then."

She had given Goliath a farewell pat before turning to leave. Navarre had to stop himself reaching an arm to stop her walking away.

"Lady Isabeau!" He called after her.

She turned around. The full power of her gaze directed right at him. Blue, blue eyes. Navarre held his breath.

"Visit him anytime. I'm sure he likes the company."

She smiled.

"Traitor," he had whispered to Goliath as he had led him away.

Goliath had just looked back at him like he had no idea what Navarre was talking about.

\--

Navarre turns Isabeau's fingers over in his hand. Studying the ring on her finger.

Imperius had married them last Spring. With the Bishop dead, the last figure that had passionately opposed their union had fallen away. If anyone else had a problem with the now reinstated captain of the guard marrying their Lord's cousin, they hadn't mentioned it to Navarre. They probably would have regretted it had they done.

Phillipe had also been at the wedding, and after strong words from Navarre had been convinced that the rings had better still be there at the end of the ceremony. Philippe had looked aghast that Navarre would even suggest a thing, but had also mentioned that they looked like very nice rings.

\--

And so it had continued.

She visited Goliath and they talked. Navarre had a reputation for being close-mouthed and very unwilling to talk about his past but he had spoken to her. About his mother, and his sister who had died when he was only six summers old. She in turn told him of her mother's death in a plague outbreak, and her father's death a few years later in the Crusades.

He started to take her riding with him. Small distances, so as never to arouse suspicion, claiming they were riding lessons. Which in a way they were, although even once Isabeau rode very well they showed no desire to discontinue them.

She had demanded he dance with her at the winter feast that year. His large hands wrapped around her small hips, hoping he wasn't giving too much away in the way he was looking at her.

They had fallen in love.

And then his Lord and Lady had died, poisoned they said, and the Bishop had dominated their impressionable and pious second son and Imperius had spoke when he shouldn't have and ... everything fell apart.

Then they ran. And ran.

\--

Isabaeu's eyes flutter as she sleeps. Navarre wonders if she ever dreams of being the hawk again.

He sometimes dreams of being the wolf. He's running, always running in the dream. Until he's stilled by hands. Small hands buried in his fur. Big blue eyes before him. And everything stops for a second.

Navarre feels something shift beside him.

Isabau opens her eyes. "Navarre?" A sleepy smile on her face.

She never quite got out of the habit of calling him that. She hardly ever calls him Etienne, and then usually only in moments of jest or deep seriousness.

"Yes, my love?"

"Why aren't you asleep?"

He brings her hand, still enfolded in his, to his lips. "I will be soon."

Isabeau seems happy enough with his answer, already mostly asleep again, and wraps herself even tighter around him.

He holds her close. Telling himself not to be afraid that she will slip through his fingers.

\--


End file.
